


Dare to Touch

by smoaknbabs



Series: Dare To Series [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindfolds, F/M, Painting, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoaknbabs/pseuds/smoaknbabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Art curator Felicity Smoak is in desperate need of patrons to save her beloved gallery, Verdant.</p><p>The only way she knows to make that happen is to seek the help of bad boy artist, Oliver Queen.</p><p>When the lines cross between business and pleasure, it opens up a whole new world of inspiration.</p><p>For the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare to Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely the fault of [latinasmoak](http://latinasmoak.tumblr.com) and [this](https://twitter.com/latinasmoak/status/632707704562167808) post.

Five weeks.

That’s what Mr. Steele had told her.

She had five weeks to get people to come to her little art gallery or it would be closing for good.

Felicity nodded professionally as the benefactor of the gallery said his goodbyes.

She watched as the door shut behind him and then swiveled on her heel, making a beeline for the gallery’s bar.

Felicity blindly grabbed for a bottle of…anything. She settled on a red wine they had stocked. Quickly searching the drawers, she found a corkscrew and divested the bottle of any and all of its confines.

Completely forgoing a glass, she brought the bottle directly to her lips and took a hefty gulp.

With the bottle swaying loosely from her hand, she peeled off her heels and made her way around her precious gallery.

She glanced at the art along the walls.

She knew it was shit.

That’s why they hadn’t had many patrons lately.

The art was shit.

Felicity sighed and slid down the nearest wall, drawing her knees to her chest and placing the bottle between them.

It hadn’t always been this way. There was a time when Starling City’s art gallery, Verdant, was a star attraction amongst art enthusiasts on the west coast. On any coast.

She’d grown up coming to this gallery. When she was little, her father had taken her here for the first time. She remembered being completely enamored by the beautiful architecture of the building, a piece of art in itself. Then the art, it had been exciting and bright and full of life, and Felicity felt something she’d never before.

When her father left, she’d come here. To find solace in her sadness. The art at the time reflected that, too. It had been showing an artist who focused on negative space. The dark, swarming loneliness of the work had spoken to her.

She made a point to come to gallery as soon as a new artist was featured. The gallery became a second home to her. It meant everything.

Felicity had gone away to MIT right out of high school, determined to leave everything behind.

And yes, she absolutely loved it. She loved being able to challenge her mind, to foster her love for technology.

But her heart wasn’t in it.

Her heart belonged to home. To art. To Verdant.

So she’d come home. The gallery had been in a bit of trouble, the previous curator having moved away.

Felicity didn’t hesitate.

She had been taking art history classes as electives all throughout college. Not to mention a lifetime of art appreciation.

Walter Steele had been skeptical, she’d clearly not had the training that their other curators did. But there was something he liked about her.

She was passionate, and committed. Walter was a money man, and he saw her passion translating to just that.

Yet, eight months, and four failed artists later, the gallery was sinking.

Felicity shook her head, biting back the frustrated tears that threatened to spill over.

Five weeks.

She’d had a lifetime of love for art and this gallery, but if she couldn’t get a serious amount of patrons in here in the next five weeks, she was going to lose it all.

//

“Uh, uh. No way.” Felicity shook her head viciously.

That idea was absolutely preposterous. There was no way in hell--

“Felicity, he’s your only option.”

“I can’t do it, Sar. I won’t.” Felicity glanced up at her friend, a mixture of determination and fear in her eyes.

“I know you don’t like the guy, but—“ Sara began.

“I never said I didn’t like him.” Felicity cut her off. “I just think he’s overrated.”

Sara shot her friend a look of disbelief. “Okaaay, well. He’s gutsy, that much is for certain.”

“Of course he’s gutsy, he’s Oliver freaking Queen. He can paint whatever the hell he wants.” Felicity sighed, shutting her eyes harshly and willing her big brain to think of a more reasonable solution to her situation.

Sara smirked. “Yeah, and he just so happens to like painting—“

“Don’t say it.” Felicity cringed, one eye opening to plead with her.

“You know he’s exactly what you need, right?” Sara placed her hand on Felicity’s shoulder to show support.

“I know.” Felicity grumbled. “I just…this is hard for me, you know?”

“I do.” Sara nodded. “But I also know that you’d do anything to save Verdant. Even if it means facing a couple fears.” She finished, then flashed a knowing smile. “Besides, you never know—you might find you actually like the guy.”

Felicity didn’t think that would be a problem, he certainly had a reputation that dictated quite the opposite.

She had lied to Sara.

She didn’t think he was overrated. In fact, his work was actually kind of amazing, she was just incredibly intimidated by it.

Oliver’s reputation was enough to bring in patrons

But his work—now that would bring people in by the busloads.

Sara was definitely right about one thing though. He was gutsy.

Because Oliver freaking Queen was an erotic artist.

//

Felicity pulled at her bracelet one last time before bracing herself and knocking on the big wooden door to Oliver Queen’s art studio.

It was open, but Felicity liked to air on the side of politeness.

“Be right out!” Called out a distant voice.

She stepped into the studio. It had a gorgeous open layout. Windows bordering the entire wall, providing perfect natural light to paint in.

Plus, it was located above an abandoned warehouse, providing adequate privacy for Oliver’s…subjects.

Felicity was admiring his latest painting in progress. The canvas was perched in such a way that she had to tilt her head to see what exactly she was looking at.

“I never seen anyone look so intently at one of my pieces before.” A deep voice spoke right behind her.

She jumped and whipped her head around. “Oh god, I am so—“

The word ‘sorry’ died on her lips as she took in the man before her.

She’d seen plenty of pictures of Oliver Queen in the tabloids over the years. But no amount of candid photos could prepare her this.

There he stood, wearing nothing but a red towel draped loosely around his hips.

Clearly having just gotten out of the shower, Oliver ran his fingers through his short, wet locks.

A few droplets of water escaped and made their way down his chest.

Felicity followed the droplets. Over his pecs, down his unfairly perfect abs, and finally following the path of that vee that led directly to his—

She watched as the droplets disappeared beneath the towel and she licked her lips quickly.

Her mouth suddenly felt like she’d swallowed a ball of cotton.

She wanted to find where that water droplet had gone and lick it up with her tongue.

Felicity looked up to see Oliver smirking at her, very aware of her obvious ogling.

She cleared her throat and extended her hand. “Felicity Smoak.”

 “What can I do for you, Ms. Smoak?” He practically purred, ogling her right back.

Felicity visibly cowered, feeling all too vulnerable. “I uh—I have a business proposition for you.” She managed to get out.

“Is that so?” Oliver tilted his head, sizing her up.

Felicity nodded, swallowing quickly as his gaze intensified. “Yes, Mr. Queen—“

“Oliver.” He cut her off. “Please, call me Oliver.”

Felicity’s eyes followed Oliver’s movements as he made his way around her.

She continued. “Right, well…Oliver, I happen to be the curator at Verdant Art Gallery.”

He dropped the towel to the floor just in time for Felicity to get a glimpse before disappearing into a back room.

She gasped and shut her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a curator.” He called out.

“Well I am.” Taking a deep breath she pressed on. “And I was wondering if you would be interested in being featured in a new exhibit at the gallery.”

“Sure.” She heard way too closely.

Her eyes snapped open to find Oliver standing right in front of her.

He’d put on a pair of loosely slung gray sweatpants. Still no shirt.

“Wait, really?” Felicity questioned. It couldn’t be that simple. Could it?

“Under one condition.” Oliver drawled, his eyes directly on her lips.

Of course. She knew it was too good to be true.

“I’ll be in your exhibit.” He stated. “Just as long as you model for me.”

//

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” Felicity stared at him wide eyed. Surely, she heard him wrong.

Oliver licked his lower lip. “Model for me.” It felt like a demand more than a request, and it sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

No, wait. That was dread.

She couldn’t possibly—how could he even think that she—she was not a model. Not in the slightest. God, she felt unworthy even being in his fucking presence and he wanted her to bare it all for him? To be the subject of his erotic painting? She couldn’t even fathom. Her breasts were perky sure, but that’s only because there was hardly anything there. That led to a slightly curved tummy which flared out into her large hips. Her ass was to blame, truly. It was huge, and she was so—sooo not letting Oliver ‘Greek god’ Queen see all of her imperfections. She could barely talk to the guy without blushing.

“I mean, I don’t know about being a Greek god or anything, but I appreciate it nonetheless. But that ass of yours is perfect. I’d love to get my eyes on it. With or without my paintbrush.” He winked at her.

Felicity’s eyes practically bulged out of her head. “I said—I said all of that out loud, didn’t I?”

He answered her question with a smile.

“Look, I appreciate the offer, really. But, I’m not what you’re looking for. I am definitely not a model. You would—you would regret that. I just, I’d really appreciate if you’d let me show your work at the gallery, it’d mean more to me than you know.”

“I’m only doing the show if you model for me, Felicity.” Oliver said definitively.

“Why?” She asked, exasperated. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that he’d want her, of all people to be a subject of his work.

He looked into her eyes, and she gasped slightly at the intensity she saw in them. “Because you are an absolutely gorgeous woman, Felicity. I want you to know that. And I don’t know any other way to show you other than to paint you. The way that I see you, and the way that you should see yourself.”

Her mouth gaped at the sincerity she felt from his words.

She trusted him. She believed him.

“Okay.” She heard herself say.

“Okay?” Oliver questioned.

“I’ll do it. I’ll model for you.”

Oliver grinned. “Fantastic.”

“When?” She blurted.

“Right now.”

“Right now? Like right now, right now?” She repeated.

“No time like the present.” Oliver reasoned.

Felicity toyed with the idea. “We will need to start getting the show together very quickly.”

“Well then we better get started.” He said, raising his eyebrows to her in a challenge.

“I guess we should.”

“Right.”

She raised her eyes to his, rising to his challenge. “But if I do this, you’ll do the show?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.”

//

Felicity stood in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom.

She took a deep breath as she crossed her arms in front of her and slowly pulled her blouse over her head.

She wore a plain cotton bra. She hadn’t come here dressed to impress.

Not that she’d dressed to impress anyone for a long, long time.

Too long, if that slow coil burning low in her belly had anything to say about it.

This was work, though. She had to do this to save Verdant.

Strictly professional, that’s all.

With that thought in mind, she divested herself of the rest of her clothing.

Save for her bright pink pumps.

She gingerly pulled the elastic from her ever so classic ponytail, letting her hair fall in loose waves around her shoulders.

She massaged her scalp and finger combed through some of the messier bits.

Felicity stood in front of the full length mirror and looked at herself in all her natural, naked glory.

Could she really do this? Could she really pose for an erotic painting?

One that Oliver Queen was responsible for?

She had to try.

So she slipped on the silky white robe Oliver had provided for her and steeled herself as she walked out of the bathroom.

Oliver was confidently maneuvering about the room when she came back.

He was draping fabric over a large chaise lounge. Taking a step back every once in a while to observe and make adjustments.

Felicity glanced over at his easel. It had a fresh canvas in place and he’d laid out some paints she assumed he’d use.

One caught her eye. It stood out amongst the others.

A bright fiery fuchsia pink.

The exact same pink as the sexy mary-jane stilettos she wore on her feet.

They were her favorite.

And it struck her, he’d wanted to include them.

Then she looked up and was met by Oliver’s intense gaze. The deep pools of blue visibly darkening as he took her in.

She felt her skin get hot. Too hot.

She was barely wearing a flimsy robe and it was suddenly suffocating her.

Felicity cleared her throat and crossed her legs at the ankles. She felt words bubbling inside her chest, a nervous ramble about to pour out.

She opened her mouth to speak and—

“Are you ready?” Oliver asked, taking a step closer towards her.

“I uh—I’m very nervous. I haven’t exactly…done this before.” She confessed.

Oliver smiled lasciviously. “Don’t be.”

Felicity huffed out a little bark of laughter. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s getting naked here.” She motioned towards herself with an adorable little hand flick.

His grin turned slightly sideways. “Would it make you more comfortable if I was too?” He asked, his hands going to the waistband of his sweats.

“No!” She shouted, quickly grabbed his wrists, preventing them from moving. Then she snapped them back, as if they’d been burned. “Don’t do that. Not that I’m sure it wouldn’t be impressive. Hell, I’m positive it would. You should probably be the one modeling here, honestly.  I’ve heard…things. Like _big_ things. If you know what I mean, which obviously you do because it’s your own body. And oh my god I am going to shut up in 3…2…1.”

She bit her lip and glanced up at him nervously.

He looked utterly amused. And yet, the heat in his eyes from earlier remained.

Felicity was completely boggled.

Oliver took a few steps closer so that he was toe to toe with her.

She had to tilt her head up to look at him.

Then she felt his hands toying with the silk ties of her robe.

Slowly she felt him pull on them and the fabric went slack around her.

“I want to make sure you feel comfortable Felicity, I want to make sure this is good for you.” Oliver whispered.

She gulped and nodded her head languidly.

“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want. But I ask that you trust me.” He continued, his fingers slowly trailing their way across her collarbone.

“I do.” She let out a breathy sigh as he pushed the fabric off her shoulders and onto the floor.

Oliver took a step back, his eyes lingering appreciatively over her body.

She covered up as much as she could with her hands, feeling all too vulnerable.

He shook his head softly and gently moved her arms away from her body. “Don’t hide from me, Felicity. You’re beautiful.”

She shut her eyes and tilted her head to the side, ripe with embarrassment.

Oliver placed his fingers under her chin and urged her to look at him. “Let me show you.” He said.

Then he motioned for her to go over to the chaise lounge.

She sat down awkwardly and patted the soft ruffles of fabric.

“How do you want me?” Felicity shut her eyes, cringing. “I mean, to pose. What position?” Her head fell back in defeat.

Oliver bit his lip to keep his smile at bay.

“Why don’t you lie back for now.” He offered, taking a seat in front of the canvas.

“Okay.” She nodded slowly. She could do that. Just lie back, no big deal. “Should I uh—“ She motioned towards her heels.

Oliver looked up. His expression morphed into what she could only describe as pure desire. “No. Leave them.”

She swallowed heavily. She’d had an inkling, but it was something else to hear him say it.

“So, is this okay?” She asked as she situated herself.

“Just get comfortable.” Oliver said, not looking up from mixing his paints.

“Not likely.” Felicity murmured under her breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” She replied curtly.

“Felicity?” He said, now looking directly at her.

“Yeah?”

He smiled. “Why don’t you spread your legs a little bit?”

“What?” She yelped.

Oliver motioned to her bent knees, which were pressed together in a vice grip.

“Oh. Right. Of…course.” Her mouth contorted to the side, eyes blown wide.

Trembling slightly she opened up her knees.

She’d never been this on display for anyone.

Even with her previous partners she’d always felt self-conscious. Any acts they did together were solely in the dark, where she could feel. And they couldn’t see.

None of her previous partners looked like Oliver Queen.

“Beautiful.” She’d heard him whisper lowly.

She squirmed. She was torn between feeling incredibly uncomfortable and incredibly turned on.

And it didn’t help that Oliver could definitely tell that she was both.

//

She couldn’t stop fidgeting. He’d been silent for what felt like hours, but was only about thirty five minutes, according to the clock behind Oliver’s head.

“Felicity, I’m gonna need you to try to stay still. I need to do some detail work.” Oliver glanced up from behind his painting.

“Oh god.” She groaned.

 _Detail work._ That meant—yeah.

Suddenly, Oliver was up out of his seat and making his way over to her.

“Hey.” He placed his hand on her knee. “If you need to take a break—“

Her chest heaved. He was so close. She could feel their body heat mingling. It was palpable.

“It’s not that.” She said. “I just can’t get comfortable.”

A slow grin spread across his unreasonably good looking lips, as his finger trailed down her inner thigh from its previous resting place on her knee.

“Maybe I can help with that.” He suggested.

She licked her lips and watched as his hooded eyes followed the action.

“What did you have in mind?”

Without a word, Oliver scooped her up in his arms and began carrying her to the same back room he’d disappeared into earlier.

His bedroom.

He softly deposited her on the bed.

She looked up at him in silent question.

“I’ll be right back. Just have to get a few things.” He assured her.

Felicity nodded mindlessly.

What the hell was going on?

She’d come here to ask Oliver to be a part of the gallery. Her gallery. To save it. She was prepared for anything rejection, begging, whatever.

She’d never imagined she’d have to prepare for this.

How could she?

And now here she was, naked, in his bed.

When he returned a moment later he had a tray of items, but quickly hid them out of her sight.

She sat up to get a better look but all she saw was Oliver’s hard chest in front of her.

And the silky tie from her robe dangling in his hands.

“May I?” Oliver asked, the fabric held taut between his hands. He held it directly in front of her line of vision.

She nodded silently, not trusting her voice. She took off her glasses and placed them on the bedside table.

A silent invitation.

Oliver brought the strip to her face and covered her eyes. He tied it securely around the back of her head, successfully blindfolding her.

The sensation was strange, but thrilling.

“Lie on your stomach for me Felicity.” Oliver ordered, his voice deep and confident.

She did as she was told, slowly turning over and laying back down.

Felicity felt Oliver move off the bed and then just as quickly as he had left, she felt the bed dip beside her once again.

“Try to take deep breaths, Felicity. If at any point you want me to stop, you say so.” He said beside her.

She nodded to indicate she’d heard him.

Then she felt something cold and wet between her shoulder blades.

Felicity jumped slightly, immediately wishing she could see what was going on.

Oliver’s hand on her shoulder pushing her back down had her complying almost immediately.

She felt his fingers begin to swirl around her back.

Every so often they’d dip back into the mystery liquid between her shoulders, and then trail somewhere new.

With every stroke of his fingers she began to relax, she began to enjoy the sensation of his roughened fingertips sliding over her smooth skin. She began to enjoy the contrast of the cold liquid against her heated skin.

She didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew that she was enjoying it.

Oliver’s fingers moved deliberately against her skin.

Sometimes he would flatten out his palm, other times she would feel the feather light touch of just his pinky.

It was almost like he was…painting her.

“Oliver?” Felicity rested her head on its side so that he could hear her more clearly. His movements halted.

“Hm?”

“Are you—are you painting me?” She stuttered out.

“Mm hm.” He hummed, his fingers resuming their ministrations.

_What?_

“W-why?”

“I thought it might help the both of us.” He provided.

Felicity had absolutely no idea what he could have possibly meant by that. “How so?”

Oliver’s fingers dragged the paint lower, over the swell of her voluptuous ass. The one he’d commented on wanting to get a better look at earlier.

She couldn’t suppress her tiny whimper.

“Well…I figured it was a win for both of us. I get to help _you_ relax, and get more comfortable in your own skin. And I get to help _myself_ get more…intimately acquainted with my new muse.”

“Oh.” Felicity’s mouth popped open in surprise.

“Is that okay with you?”

She gulped. “Mm hm.” She nodded her head. “That’s very okay.”

He chuckled softly. Then he placed his hands on her lips and urged her to flip over.

She went willingly.

He spread her legs open and knelt between them.

Coating his hands in more paint, he slid them down the sides of her body, resting at her hips.

He bent forward and Felicity felt his lips on her skin.

They made their way up the column of her neck. She immediately tilted her head back to give him better access.

She moaned when she felt the flat of his tongue slide up a throbbing vein.

He hummed against her skin in appreciation.

“Oliver!” She gasped.

Felicity could feel his stubble rubbing deliciously against her chest and chin as he devoured her neck.

Then, just as she was about to beg, she felt his lips on hers.

It was a bruising kiss.

Their lips smashed together in a passionate display of pure lust.

Up until this point, Felicity’s hands had stayed by her sides.

But she couldn’t hold back any longer.

She grabbed hold of the back of his neck and brought him closer to her.

His tongue traced the edge of her lips and before she knew it her toes were curling at the feeling of his tongue sliding against hers.

She’d never felt so good from just kissing before.

She wanted more though. Needed more.

Felicity wanted Oliver to give her those things he’d promised.

As if sensing her desperation, Oliver’s lips moved back down her neck, then followed a trail to her breast.

His lips wraps around a nub and latched on.

That, combined with the sensation of paint being dripped on her other nipple had her keening.

He grabbed her other breast and squeezed. The paint sloshing between his fingers.

Felicity’s hands went to her hair. She was beside herself.

She couldn’t see anything but she felt _everything._

She felt Oliver sit up and scoot further down the bed.

Then she felt his wet hand on the inside of her thigh, urging them further apart.

“You’re soaked.” He commented.

“I-I’ve been turned on since I heard your voice come up behind me while I was looking at your painting.”

“So, so gorgeous.” He growled, his fingers spreading her open.

Felicity released a primal moan as Oliver’s tongue licked a long strip up her slit.

She panted as his tongue wiggled its way through all of her most sensitive bits.

It latched onto her clit, making her back bow off of the bed.

He placed a hand on her stomach to keep her down as his tongue wiggled its way down further and circled her entrance. And then back up again.

Over and over and over again.

It should be illegal, how good he was at that.

Felicity couldn’t help but to grind herself against him.

She was on fire. Every limb tingling with the need for release.

He could tell she was close.

He doubled his efforts, his tongue flattening against her at a grueling pace.

“Oliver, I-I—“

Paint was dripped in a line down her torso while his tongue entered her and she screamed.

His hand sluiced through the paint, keeping her grounded as she came, gripping the sheets.

He slowed his movements as she came down, panting.

She reached for him, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him towards her.

She crashed her lips to his, tasting herself.

He moaned as she bit down lightly on his lower lip, suddenly feeling emboldened.

“I need you inside of me.” She gasped against his lips.

He dug his face into the side of her neck groaning, as they pushed off his sweat pants together.

Felicity heard the sound of a drawer beside her opening and the tell-tale sound of a foil wrapper being ripped open.

“Give me some paint.” She croaked, her voice wrecked.

Oliver placed her hands out on the bed, face open and deposited a hefty dollop in each palm.

“Don’t move.” He directed.

Her body thrummed with energy.

She felt him grab her hips and line himself up.

She felt him drag his cock through her folds.

She felt him enter her.

The air left her lungs as she felt him hard and heavy sinking into her inch by inch.

“Fuck” He stuttered out on an exhale.

She could do nothing but moan.

Finally, when he was fully seated inside of her, she felt his paint covered palms slide up her arms.

They found their way to his hands and he linked their fingers together, sloshing the paint.

The sensation was incredible.

She wrapped her legs around him and dug the heel of her pump into his ass, urging him to move.

And he did.

His hands released hers and slid underneath her, landing on her ass.

He squeezed it before lifting her slightly off the bed, impaling her on his cock.

Felicity gasped and grabbed hold of his shoulders.

He groaned as he felt her small, slick fingers slide down his back.

Together they moved, in perfect synchronicity.

Each giving the other something they’d never given before.

It felt like the most practiced act they’d ever done, and they’d only just met.

Oliver’s thrusts became harder, more stunted.

She could tell he was close. So was she.

“C’mon Oliver, you helped me let go. Now it’s your turn.” She said in between pants.

She dug her heels further into him and raked a hand down his back.

The other flew to her blindfold and ripped it off just in time to see Oliver falling apart.

It was beautiful.

The light streamed in from the large window panes, illuminating him in a way that took Felicity’s breath away.

The feel of him pulsing inside of her pushed her off the edge as well, sending her into an even more powerful orgasm than before.

They helped each other chase the after effects as they came down together.

Lying in a heap on the bed, Felicity tried to regulate her breathing as she looked at the mess they’d made.

There was paint everywhere. Covering them, covering the sheets, covering everything.

Felicity giggled. Then she started laughing.

Oliver looked up at her, one part confused, one part amused.

The paint was fuchsia pink.

//

Felicity smiled as she took a sip of her champagne.

“Well done, Ms. Smoak. I’m not sure how you did it, but you’ve managed to draw in quite the crowd. I knew I saw something in you when I’d first hired you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Steele. I guess this placed just lacked a bit of inspiration for a while.” Felicity sighed, her eyes lingering to a very attractive artist, who was really working those suspenders, across the room.

“Well I’m certainly glad we’ve found it again.” Walter replied.

Felicity grinned as her eyes were met by Oliver’s. He had a dangerously sexy look on his face and she knew what that meant.

She turned her attention back to her boss. “I have a feeling that we won’t be lacking for inspiration for quite some time, Mr. Steele.”

The older man smiled. “Glad to hear it. Well, enjoy the showing Ms. Smoak. This work is simply exquisite.”

Felicity coughed slightly on her next swallow of champagne.

“Well, it’s not hard to make beautiful art work when you have a beautiful model.” Oliver said, sidling up next to Felicity.

“Very true, Mr. Queen. And it would seem that the talk to tonight is centered on exactly who that model is. Your work has certainly been expressive before, but this…this is something else.”

Oliver chuckled, smug grin on his face. “An artist never reveals his muse.” He quipped.

Walter chuckled good-naturedly. “Very well. Whoever she is, she’s good for you.”

“I think so too.” He mused.

Felicity shifted beside him.

Walter excused himself to go talk to some of the other patrons.

Oliver looked around at his paintings.

To an outside eye, the erotic imagery was just a beautiful and sexy portrayal of a gorgeous woman in heels.

No one would ever know who the woman was.

No one would ever know how they’d made the art.

How after they’d had round two and three in the bed.

Then round four in the shower to wipe away the beautiful mess they’d made.

No one would know that he’d come to be so acquainted with his muse’s body that she’d blindfolded him and made him paint from memory.

That piece had been the showstopper.

No one would know looking at Felicity that she’d been able to rid herself of a lifetime of self-deprecation and had become a gorgeous sex goddess comfortable in her own skin.

No one but Oliver, that was.

He looked over to Felicity who was smirking at him.

She dragged a heel against his ankle, sliding the hem of his pants upward.

He glanced down.

She was wearing the heels.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat with me on tumblr @ [smoaknbabs](http://smoaknbabs.tumblr.com).
> 
> Please don't forget to let me know what you guys think!


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